


Intertwined

by thelogicalloganipus (awkwardkermitfrog)



Category: Sander Sides
Genre: Gen, Skin Hunger, Touch Hunger, touch starvation, touch starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-14 23:57:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13018935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardkermitfrog/pseuds/thelogicalloganipus
Summary: For the Fander Secret Santa, for @fearful-quartet. This is the closest I have ever come to writing a shipping fic. It's pretty short, simple, and sweet, I guess?I would recommend listening to Intertwined, by Dodie. You can find it on Youtube.





	Intertwined

Virgil scrolled absently through tumblr, not paying much attention to his surroundings, occasionally giggling to a sense of humor he didn’t think the other sides would understand. He looked up at Logan, who was reading a book at the table, sitting up straight, then over to Patton, who was giggling with Roman at some cartoon. Virgil sunk further into his corner of the couch and went back to the app, scrolling.

And then he paused.

 

_ I just want to be touched. I want someone to play with my hair as I lay next to them. I want them to trace their hand over my body and our fingers to intertwine. I want to feel skin on skin, near skin, near me. I’m so touch starved.  _

 

Virgil looked up at the others, eyes wide with realization, and then back at the post. He read it again. And again. And then he looked up the tag.

 

_ Do you ever just want to feel the weight of someone’s body near yours? It’s been so long since anyone touched me  _

 

_ omfg a barista brushed my hand today and it sent shivers up my spine becaause no one has touched me in months _

 

_ I just wanna be hugged so bad, i’m so touch starved _

  
  


Virgil swallowed and stood up, carrying his laptop with him, heart thumping. “I think I’m going to head to my room.” He announced. Without waiting for the others, Virgil headed out, carrying his laptop with him. When he entered his room, he set the laptop on the bed and began to type in his search: touch starvation. 

Immediately several articles came up discussing touch starvation, something Virgil had never heard of. He began to scroll through, reading, putting headphones in, a blue light softly illuminating his face. 

 

_ “What's wrong with having an untouching, unaffectionate culture? Starvation. Some decades ago, James Prescott of National Institute of Child  _ [ _ Health _ ](https://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/health) _ and Human Development postulated that as a result of little touch many Americans suffer from  _ [ _ Somatosensory Affectional Deprivation _ ](http://www.violence.de/prescott/mp/article.html) _.  _ [ _ Brain _ ](https://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/neuroscience) _ systems (e.g., cerebellum) important for social pleasures were insufficiently developed during early  _ [ _ childhood _ ](https://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/child-development) _ due to a lack of touch, making it hard to enjoy positive touch as an adult. The way children are raised is who they become.” _

 

Virgil scrolled and clicked on another article, soaking in the information, drawing a blanket around his shoulders.

 

_ “Skin hunger is your body's reaction to lack of physical touch and it affects an increasing number of Americans while being a non existent phenomenon in more touch-happy countries like France. The problem that we're learning is that without skin-to-skin touch (might we add that it doesn't have to be sexual), your body doesn't produce the hormone oxytocin. Without that natural chemical, adults are more susceptible to depression and infants can have developmental problems or even die.”  _

 

It was real. 

Touch starvation was real.

Virgil stayed there like that, listening to somber music and scrolling through articles about the importance of human touch, until about three in the morning. He glanced at the clock on the laptop and its diminishing battery power and pulled one of his earbuds out, looking around listening. The others had gone to sleep. Virgil reached over and turned on the lamp next to his bed, shutting his laptop, staring into space, blanket pulled tightly over his increasingly small frame, and thought about the longing. 

* * *

  
  


Virgil walked out into the living room of the mind palace, sleepily shuffling his feet across the carpet, and plopped in front of the television, phone in hand. 

“Good morning, Virgil.” Logan was still at the table, reading something. 

Virgil grunted, opening his phone, scrolling.

“Do you want any breakfast, Verge?” Patton glanced over from his spot on the couch, munching on some toast, the morning news playing in the background. 

Virgil grunted again.

“Do you think you can pull your head out of Tumblr and talk to us?” Roman’s eyes were more narrowed, more annoyed. 

Virgil looked up at him, flared his nostrils, and looked back down at his phone.

“So it’s gonna be one of those days.” Roman crossed his arms, looking back at a news reporter detailing something about a study done on mice involving chocolate. “Guess Thomas is going to need something to get him out of his funk.”

The words stung, but Virgil stayed put. He pulled some headphones out of his pajama pant pocket, where he usually kept them, and pulled up spotify, a Dodie song humming through his ears.

_ Skin… heat… hair in your mouth.... Feet touching feet… _

He glanced around at the others, who were now back to ignoring him, and pulled his knees up to his chest, considering the words, resisting the urge to sing aloud.

He felt a nudge and pulled out a headphone, looking at Patton, who was shaking his knee. 

“We’re gonna put up Christmas decorations later. Wanna join us?” He asked, his voice cheery, as always.

“Oh.” Virgil thought about this, about the cheeriness, the social aspect. “Uh… maybe.”

“Okay!” Patton smiled, ignoring Roman, who looked like he was purposely ignoring the conversation. “After lunch, okay?”

“Yeah.” Virgil nodded. He waited a moment after Patton had turned away to reinsert his headphone, listening again to those slow, thoughtful words.

* * *

 

Virgil let the water wash over his back, the warmth infecting his skin and bones. He stood there, thinking, not washing his body, listening to the sound of water hitting the ceramic tiles and curtain, not really thinking, not really present in the moment.

“Oh I’m afraid of the things in my brain, but we can stay here… laugh away the fear…” He half sang to himself, tracing his fingers along the space between the tiles, still not quite present. 

He thought about how Roman and Patton had been sitting so close to each other on the couch, how they’d been touching thighs. How he’d been far away, removed. Separate.

Virgil poured some slimy shampoo onto his hands and ran it through his hair, humming without realizing it, and let the foam run down his body. It seemed to wash down the drain, away, and for a moment he wondered if he could become nothingness like that, wash away from the world.

He sat down, leaning his back on the cold wall slowly, and stared out of the shower curtain, hot water beating down on skin until it was red and raw. 

Nothing existed here, much less his increasing need to feel skin on skin, or bodies on bodies… bodies on him…

Virgil pulled his knees up to his chest and ran his fingernails over the hair on his knees, not fully absent or present, wondering about the sides, who he was sure were hanging garlands and lights, not paying his absence much mind. He reached over, turning up the heat, nearly scalding himself, and then looked back out at the shower curtain. 

“I can’t ask for that.” Virgil whispered. “Never. They’d never let me live it down.” 

He continued to stare like that, into nothingness, whispering to himself, until the water got cold.

* * *

  
  


“Oh hey, Verge! We were just about to put lights on the tree!” 

Virgil stopped halfway down the hall and turned to look at Patton, eyes red and swollen, and nodded. “That’s nice.” 

“Do you want to join us?” Patton had stepped forward, his voice less cheerful and more understanding. He tilted his head at Virgil, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Your eyes are red, kiddo. And you were in that shower an awfully long time.” He paused, searching for the right words, the two of them listening to Roman sing along with Bing Crosby. “Would you tell me if you weren’t alright?” 

“Yeah - of course, yeah.” Virgil looked away, lip quivering, and bit his cheek to steady it. “Of course. I’m fine.”

Patton sighed, searching Virgil’s face, and looked out towards the hall. “You know we all want you to join us. Even Roman.”

Virgil sniffed, looking down, hiding his face. “Yeah.”

“We like you, Virgil.” Patton leaned on the wall, hands together, examining Virgil’s steadily shaking frame. “You know that?”

“Y-yeah.” Virgil hiccuped, a tear rolling down his nose. “I’m sorry. I’m fine.” He looked up, away, towards the hall to his room. “I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Patton nodded, not pressing the issue. “I won’t push you. But… can I give you a hug?”

Virgil looked at him, still shaking, swallowing hard. “What?”

“Just a quick one.” Patton smiled, gentle still, and held out his arms. “You don’t even have to hug me back.”

“Huh.” Virgil looked at the ground, still sniffling, and wiped a tear from his lip. “Yeah. I guess. I mean - I guess that’d be okay.” He suddenly found his body enveloped, arms wrapped around him, pressing into him. A body on his body. Skin next to his skin. He could hear Patton’s heartbeat in his ear, from his neck. He could feel his weight. He could feel himself crying for reasons he didn’t understand, his arms hanging limply at his sides, some strange weakness overcoming his body.

For several minutes they stood there, Patton rubbing Virgil’s back gently, not saying anything, just existing. Intertwined. 

When Virgil’s breathing slowed, Patton began to pull away. Virgil held out his arms, finally hugging back, holding him against him. 

“Do you need me to stay here a little longer?” Patton whispered.

“I just… I miss… I didn’t realize how much I needed to be touched.” Virgil whispered back. “I… don’t want to lose this.”

“We can always hug later, Verge.” Patton felt Virgil pull away, his grip loosening. “Any time. In fact, we were all going to watch It’s a Wonderful Life, and I’d be flattered if you joined us.” 

“Yeah.” Virgil sniffed. “That sounds good.” He looked out, down the hallway, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Patton began to lead the way down the hall, out into the living room. Virgil gasped, astonished.

A grand Christmas tree stood before them, higher and mightier than he would’ve thought possible. It was gawdy and over decorated, blue lights tangled with red and green ones, covered in garland and all kinds of ornaments, large and small. Towards the top, Logan was setting a star into place, Roman holding the ladder below him. 

“You guys really outdid yourselves this year.” Virgil muttered, staring up at the tree. He jolted at a pat on the back from Patton, who was smiling at him, and the two looked up at the tree together.

“Are you going to join us for the movie?” Logan asked, stepping down gently from the ladder. 

“Yeah.” Virgil gave a small smirk, looking at Roman pretend to be shocked. “That sounds nice.”

“Virgil? Enjoying the Christmas spirit?” Roman held his hand to his chest. “Oh dear me, that might be the nicest surprise all season.”

Virgil allowed himself a true smile, looking down, blushing. He glanced at Patton, who was putting the movie in, and sat down, basking in the warm glow of the holiday spirit. Maybe Christmas wasn’t so lonely after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments give me life. Find me on tumblr @thelogicalloganipus


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